


Hide & Seek

by JennyGyver



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Blood, Child Abuse, Gen, Horror, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron)-centric, Keith!whump, Lotor's stuck up, Nightmares, Orphan Keith (Voltron), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Platonic Relationships, Step-Brothers, Step-parents, Zarkon's a jerkface, just a little bit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-06-16 05:49:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15430350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennyGyver/pseuds/JennyGyver
Summary: This was nothing like hide and seek used to be.





	1. Gotcha

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I've been inspired by Keith and his stories of childhood trauma, and all of the speculation around that time of his life. I'm writing the from Child-Keith's perspective from personal experience with that kind of trauma, terror and abuse. If that subject is triggering for you, please be careful reading!
> 
> This is a pet project for me, kind of like therapy, so I will update as I feel like writing and get inspired! Not sure where this will go yet, but there will definitely be lots of angst!

This was nothing like hide and seek used to be. 

“Boy! Where are you at?!” Keith crouched down in the back of his closet, hands clamped over his mouth to muffle his terrified gasps. The coats piled in front of him were almost stifling, but he didn’t move them out of the way. “Don’t you dare hide from me!”

Hide and seek used to be fun.

The boy followed the sound of heavy stomping up the stairs, the creaking hinges and slam of the attic door being flung open. He listened to his step-dad moving about the room, thuds from moving the desk out of the way, crouching to look under the bed. 

Hide and seek used to be playful.

“I’ll give you one more chance to come out! If I have to find you myself, you’ll be sorry.” Keith closed his eyes, flinching back violently as the closet door swung open. “I know you’re in here,” the man said in a sing-song voice.

Hide and seek used to be with his mom,

The raven-haired lad tried his best to still his shaking, holding his breath. _He can’t see me. He can’t see me. I’m invisible. He can’t-- _Keith shrieked as hands plunged into the pile of coats, grabbing him roughly and pulling him out. With eyes wide open, Keith stared as Zarkon lifted him up to his eye level like he weighed nothing. To be fair, 50 pounds was underweight, especially for a ten-year old.__

__Zarkon grinned at the shaking lad, leaning in close. “Gotcha.”_ _

__Hide and seek used to be safe._ _

__This was nothing like hide and seek used to be._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Holy cow, you guys! I had no idea this little scene would get such a great response! I've got the second chapter in the works, which is more like Chapter 1, and this one is more like the Prologue.


	2. You're Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lotor don't really get along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many more words in this one! This chapter is about the fear of what might happen more so than the actual bad stuff that happens. Trigger warning for a little rough-housing and...brandy breath? Blech!

“Daaad, we’re home!” Keith cringed a bit at the loudness of his older step-brother’s voice. He glanced up at the clock in the front foyer and winced. _Three minutes late._ Maybe Zarkon had a good day and wouldn’t notice.

Keith waited for Lotor to stand in the study doorway to talk to his dad before trying to sneak by behind him. “Ah, Keith,” Zarkon’s eyes narrowed in on him around Lotor, ”you’re home late from school today.”

“Yes sir, I’m sorry sir,” Keith immediately responded, eyes lowered. The boy’s heartbeat picked up as Zarkon stood up and made his way around the desk in the room. “Lotor tripped me just down the block, and I couldn--”

“Are you tattling, child? Are you sure you weren’t just clumsy and...fell, all by yourself?” He loomed over the boy, a good couple of heads taller, dark eyes still narrowed in disapproval.

Keith’s heart dropped to his stomach. “What? But he– I– I didn’t–”

“Are you not grateful for the opportunity to live in a house instead of foster care, where you would have ended up after your mother passed away?”

“Yes, of course I–”

“And with as hard as I work to provide for you, to make sure you have a roof over your head and nice school to go to, I ask so little in return. I think it’s fair to only ask you to come home from school on time...don’t you?”

The last thing Keith wanted was to give his stepdad more troubles than he already had. After all, he had lost two wives, leaving Zarkon with the burden of raising their offspring alone. He would just have to sort out Lotor on his own. The boy hung his head defeatedly. “No sir. I’ll try to do better next time?”

Zarkon smirked. “Good boy. Haxus and Sendak will be joining me this evening. Lotor, make sure to complete your studies, and you are welcome to join us. Keith, as punishment for being late home from school you will clean the kitchen and prepare the den for our evening. When I am satisfied, you may retire to your room without supper to think about why you are being punished.”

––––

It was late. Zarkon was well into his second bottle of brandy, divvying it up between the three adults when he decided that Keith had cleaned enough. With hands raw from bleach water and knees aching from scrubbing counters and floors, Keith fled as quietly as he could to his attic room. 

He sank down on the bed with a sigh of relief and glanced at the clock. _Almost midnight. I didn’t think there was that much to clean._ At least he could sleep in a little tomorrow. Zarkon almost always got drunk on Friday nights with his friends and spent Saturday morning nursing a hangover.

Keith changed into his sleep shirt and boxers and crawled underneath the covers, switching the light off on the way. He fell asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.

And promptly woke up to someone’s hand over his mouth.

“Mmmh!” Swinging a fist blindly in the darkness, another hand grabbed his wrist, pinning it to the bed. His breath whooshed out as a weight settled on top of him.

“Stop that!” Lotor whispered harshly, shaking Keith to keep him quiet. He stopped struggling only to groan through Lotor’s hand in annoyance. Wrinkling his nose, Keith decided brandy breath was overrated.  
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you trying to _rat me out_ earlier. You need to learn your place in this house.” More shaking for emphasis. Lotor leaned in close, “Dad won’t even notice you until tomorrow afternoon, so we have _plenty_ of time to _play_.”

Keith’s eyes widened. Playing never meant nice things with Lotor; he only liked games that hurt other people. Especially when Zarkon let him have a few sips of brandy.

His hand tightened on Keith’s face and the younger boy starting struggling anew. Lotor hefted Keith up and off the bed, his legs dangling from the grip. Lotor’s hand loosened a little and Keith bit down hard.

With a manly shriek, Lotor dropped Keith, shaking his hand around and swearing, “You little urchin, you bit me!”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” Keith dodged Lotor’s grabs, backing into the closet door. _Just go away. Go away! Leave me alone! Please!_ Hands caged him in, settling on the wall either side of his head. “ Please, I don’t want to play…” Cringing down from Lotor’s sneering grin, he brought his arms up to protect his face. “Please…” he whimpered.

“What are you boys doing up there?!” Both jumped with the sudden shout. Stomping footsteps showed Zarkon still awake, and probably more than a little drunk. The sound approached the creaking stairs, starting up.

They exchanged a panicked look, and Lotor grabbed Keith by the arms, practically throwing him across the room towards the sparse bed. Keith stumbled under the covers, and Lotor quickly pulled them up around his chin, sitting on the side of the bed.

Zarkon slammed the door open, only to hear Lotor’s soft “...and they all lived happily ever after. The End.” The teen looked up at his dad in surprise, but continued in the same quiet tone. “Hey dad, Keith just fell asleep. Did you need one of us for something?”

The man just stepped to the side and gestured to the door. Lotor stood up and walked out ahead of him. He shut the door behind him, and the lock clicked in place before their footsteps went back downstairs. 

The boy let out his tense breath, shutting his eyes and thanking whatever deity was out there that he made it through another day. He also couldn’t hold back a smirk when he heard a smack and Lotor’s faint yelp. Keith had felt that headslap one too many times, and it hurt. _Serves him right. The stupid idiot._

Eyes closed, the raven-haired lad drifted off, thinking about his mom with a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who gave kudos and comments last chapter! Once again, please leave a comment to let me know what you like about this chapter! I am still taking suggestions to incorporate later on.


	3. Not Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little backstory on how exactly Zarkon and Krolia knew each other, and how Keith ended up with him!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning! There is a bit of a gruesome scene in this chapter, so be careful reading it! Please pay attention to the tags.

Krolia never did much care for dating. Everything she needed she had already, and didn’t see a point in pursuing a romantic relationship for herself when she focused so much on her son. Daycare and babysitting cost a lot, and she worked long hours anyway trying to make ends meet. Single-momhood was tough, but she tried to make sure Keith never wanted for anything.

In an effort to spend more mother/son time and get him around more positive male figures, she joined a gym and took him to work out with her. Always a fun adventure with a five-year-old. 

One afternoon, when Keith had an unusually high amount of excess energy and she turned her back for a moment to wipe a seat off, he had run off to the free weights and started lifting one off the rack. Of course, it proved too heavy for him and had he gone unnoticed, he would most definitely have ended up hurting himself.

Another couple, regular patrons at the gym, kept their eyes on Keith and Krolia, smiling at each other and reminiscing about how their own son seemed insatiable at that age. During one of these times, the man noticed the child escape his mother’s watchful eye for a moment and head for the free weight equipment.

Seeing what the child intended, he practically leapt across the open space between them and plucked the weight from the child’s hands right before it fell on top of the boy. Of course, Keith didn’t appreciate someone suddenly in his space, so he did what any reasonable child would do when confronted with stranger danger - he kicked him as hard as he could while screaming very loudly.

Krolia whipped around to see a stranger holding a weight over her son, who was screaming, and drew appropriate conclusions. Woe betide anyone who gets between her and her son. The poor man looked so lost trying to fend off sharp feet of a small child on one side and a steam-rolling mama bear on the other. 

“Give it back! IT’S MINE, I HAD IT FIRST!!” Keith continued kicking, reaching for the weight with little grabby hands. Krolia quickly realized her mistake and changed targets.

“Keith! That is not appropriate behavior! Stop kicking!”

Chaos ensued until she got Keith distracted with a jump rope, the man having gone back to his wife. Krolia walked up to them to apologize for her son’s distressing behavior. “I am so sorry for that. He’s been a handful since his father passed away, but I promise that won’t happen again.”

The couple looked at each other knowingly, then back to her. “Not a problem at all dear, we know what it’s like to have young headstrong children.” The woman extended her hand. “I’m Honerva, and this is my husband Zarkon.”

They became fast friends over time, the three adults, often getting together for playdates with their kids (which they enjoyed more than Keith and Lotor, to be honest). They did movie nights, camping trips, chaperoning for school events and babysitting together. Life was pretty good.

Until Honerva got sick.

Her diagnoses came rather suddenly, and the prognosis wasn’t good. Six months to live at most. 

She lasted four.

Zarkon and Krolia grew closer through their grief, and after an appropriate amount of time, they announced their engagement. Keith was the ring bearer at their wedding, just turned seven years old and very grown up for his age. Lotor spent the whole ceremony trying to get him in trouble.

Zarkon never did recover fully from Honerva’s death, even after marrying again. Krolia did what she could for him, and they were happy for a time.

One evening, she was driving home from work and a drunk driver ran a red light right into her side of the car.

She died instantly.

Not too long after that second funeral, Zarkon took to drinking and taking out his anger on his step-son Keith. The child looked so much like Krolia it _hurt_. Their little family wouldn’t be the same ever again.

––––

_Gasping, Keith glanced behind him. He didn’t see anything, but that meant nothing when the hair at his nape stood on end and his stomach cramped painfully in fear. A sudden crunching noise caused him to turn quickly frontward, only to see...no. No. This couldn’t be happening. Not again._

_“Mom!” he tried to yell, only realizing after that he couldn’t speak. Legs frozen, arms moving through molasses, eyes locked in front. The lack of sound didn’t stop him from trying again. “Mom! Please!”_

_The woman in front of him spun slowly around to face him. Desperate for a glimpse of her face, he silently begged her to move faster._

_He recoiled violently against the dead air. Breath came faster as the woman approached, and the sharp tang of iron reached his nose._

_A grisly grin of torn cheeks and dripping blood. “Oh, honey,” the strips of skin flapped as she spoke, exposing teeth underneath, “it’s alright. I’m here. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”_

_He. Couldn’t. MOVE! Tried to back up, but with feet still locked in place he just fell over backwards. He threw up shaking hands in front of his face, palms out to ward her off._

_“Sweetie, don’t run away! You look so sad. Let’s turn that frown upside down!” She loomed over him, reaching...reaching…_

_A hand clamped on his shoulder and jerked him up. “That’s your mother, you impudent whelp! Don’t run away from her!” He vaguely registered Zarkon’s voice through a haze. The hand squeezed tight on his shoulder._

_He pressed his palms to his eyes._ It’s not real. It’s not real. _He pushed until he saw stars, then opened his eyes._

Darkness. Cloying, stale air. He couldn’t catch his breath, could only see his mother’s gruesome visage. With a cry he shoved his hands forward.

And pushed his comforter off of his face.

“It was a dream, it was only a dream. S’not real.” He continued to whisper to himself, clawing his blankets up around him like a shield, and squeezed into the furthest corner on his bed, back to the wall. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he chanted, arms wrapped around him, “it’s okay.”

He rubbed his shoulder, the phantom fingers still lingering.

He couldn’t hold back a small whimper, eyes clouding with tears. Rocking back and forth, he focused on the room around him. 

Early morning light filtered in through the window. 

Dust motes floated peacefully in the golden rays, flickering in and out. 

A car rumbled by on the street outside.

Salt flooded his mouth, and he rubbed the sticky tears from his face.

Rested his head on his knees.

Listened to the early morning birds twittering their song.

More cars creaked by, increasing in frequency.

He eventually became aware of faint clanking and banging a couple floors down in the direction of the kitchen. Zarkon couldn’t be up yet - he’d be too hungover. Lotor, then.

Keith burrowed deeper into the relative warmth and safety of his blankets. He just wanted a little more peace before having to face the music.

Then he remembered Zarkon had locked his door last night. _Crap. Today’s gonna suck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I used to wake myself up from nightmares by closing my eyes really hard in the dream and opening them up in reality. Happened at least four times that I can recall.
> 
> PS - This story just hit 50 kudos! That's so awesome!

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this and have any ideas or prompts for where you would like to see it go, drop a comment! I'm incorporating suggestions. Thanks!


End file.
